


A Brother's Love

by rosedarkling



Series: A Family Affair [3]
Category: Deep-Sea Prisoner, Mogeko, Okegom, funamusea, 廃れ夢 | Obsolete Dream, 海底囚人, 海底囚人 | Deep-Sea Prisoner, 灰色庭園 | Haiiro Teien | The Gray Garden
Genre: Blood and Violence, Brother/Brother Incest, M/M, Mild Gore, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, forced blowjob, sex denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27764581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosedarkling/pseuds/rosedarkling
Summary: Disobedience must always be properly sorted out. Devil Lord or not, an older brother should always have the upper hand. A brother's love knows no limit.
Relationships: Fumus/Satanick (Gray Garden)
Series: A Family Affair [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015962
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	A Brother's Love

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for a fic filled with blood, violence, and incestuous filth. This is the finale to the little series I decided to do. A big shoutout to Starry for their lovely Fumusata commission which helped inspire this finale. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this messed-up little adventure. Any feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank you, all. Love you. :) <3
> 
> UPDATE as of January 25, 2021: Good news, everyone! The beautiful commissioner of the Fumusata comm - Starry - has drawn this lovely little drawing upon a request I sent. Please go give them all the love and support for their lovely art style and lovely personality! :D  
> Link = https://twitter.com/bottomstnk/status/1353760782610264065

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

If Fumus had not been expecting Satanick, he would have found himself quite startled by the volume and intensity with which Satanick barged into his bedroom with. Be that as it may, he still found himself slightly jolted with how loud the door slammed open against the wall. Fumus had been anticipating this moment for the past few hours; everything was in its proper place, and he was pleased that Satanick had not delayed coming to visit him.

Finally, his little brother was here.

Fumus had to admit that seeing Satanick with such a dark aura around him had him feeling even more excited for this encounter. The devil of the Pitch Black World stood menacingly in the doorway of Fumus’s room, his bright purple eyes glaring over at the god with a hatred that Fumus had not seen in quite some time. The man’s pitch black hair hung around his head in somewhat messy locks, though the way it hung in front of his eyes cast the perfect shadow over his brother’s glowing eyes. With his fists tightly clenched at his sides, Fumus clearly ascertained that Satanick was trying to hold himself back, but the way his long, tattered cape practically blew around him spoke of such seething rage had it not been for the visible black energy that emanated from around Satanick. Even with the distance between them, Fumus could clearly see the man’s teeth were so tightly clenched, he was surprised they did not break.

Well, for now they didn’t….

Fumus grinned as he imagined all of the fun he was going to have with Satanick. After all, he had planned this out perfectly.

Rising from his sitting position on his bed, Fumus stood to greet the younger one. “I told you already, didn’t I, Satanick?” The god placed his right palm on his hip as he mockingly tilted his head to the left, a sneer spreading across his lips that showed his sharp teeth. “Or are you so stupid that you forgot?”

“FUMUS!” Satanick’s voice screamed at him, rumbling deep in his chest and throat that Fumus could not help but laugh. Just when had been the last time that he had gotten Satanick so riled up like this? He could not honestly remember. Anger was not quite something he saw from Satanick, and an even rarer sight was when his rage was directed at Fumus. Such a visceral reaction. The god already found his sadistic nature itching to get his hands upon this man.

To break Satanick down to a mere shell from such a state would be pure bliss.

Clearly trying to have some sort of control over himself, Fumus watched as Satanick approached him, his black dress shoes shuffling across the carpeting of Fumus’s bedroom. “You horrible, evil man!” Satanick growled out as he strode forward. “How could you do such a thing?! He’s just a child!” The closer Satanick got, the more he loomed over his older brother. Taller he might be, but Fumus did not flinch in the slightest as Satanick stopped directly in front of him, glowering down at him. Fumus’s own eyes flashed a menacing violet as the two stared at each other in a similitude of volatile feelings – Satanick in seething anger and pain, while Fumus grinned in amusement.

Tonight was going to be so, so much fun.

It was all he could do – all he could do to hold back the immense hatred that Satanick was feeling. The normally eccentric and flamboyant side of the Pitch Black devil was nowhere to be seen. In fact, he seemed to much more resemble his older self – a self that he no longer liked to recall. Once cold and hardened to many of the things he had been put through… only to now be drug back into the thick, miry swamp that Fumus liked to create for him. Satanick had been feeling relatively happier these days, albeit it the occasional days when his mind would slip a bit off kilter thanks to something said or done by those closest to him. Yet as of late, he found himself smiling more and more carefree. Even when Fumus would show up to visit him or he would be called over, Satanick did not dread these “meetings” as much as he used to.

In all honesty, things were beginning to look up for the devil. 

He should have known.

He should have known that such a fleeting happiness could never truly be real. 

Fumus did not answer immediately to Satanick’s posed question. All that he responded with was a simple grin, showing his sharp teeth as he kept his eyes locked onto Satanick’s. Was he enjoying this? Satanick answered his own question immediately; of course Fumus was. Anything that Fumus could find amusement in, he would. Satanick had learned long, long ago what Fumus enjoyed, and soon his messed-up desires had become a part of Satanick’s own.

_“This is what it’s supposed to be like, Satanick. Trust me.”_

Words from centuries ago that had never quite faded. Even now they rang out so horribly true in Satanick’s chaotic mind. His emotions were scattered in several directions at once, and his entire being shook with such pent up energy. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to hurt Fumus so, so deeply.

Yet for all that these thoughts and feelings were worth – and even justifiable in his mind – he just….

“I…. I can’t,” Satanick choked out first. Everything felt so horribly cold and dreary as the blackness that had flung out from Satanick now began to wrap back into himself, as if cradling him. His old, tattered cape soon faded from around his frame, leaving him in his typical black suit attire. Reaching out, Satanick grabbed onto Fumus’s biceps, tightly gripping onto him but just gentle enough so he would not harm the god. Even touching him unannounced like this should have been a death sentence, but right now, Satanick had to somehow express his pleas. The devil’s knees soon collapsed underneath himself as he felt all of the rage suddenly leave his body, leaving him already feeling like a husk of his former self once more. Still gripped onto Fumus’s arms, Satanick had been able to successfully bend Fumus at the waist a bit as Satanick stared up into his somewhat disgusted yet surprised face. Satanick could already feel the saliva in his mouth wanted to fade away as he opened his mouth to plead.

“Fumus, I can’t…. I can’t do this anymore. Please. Just stop this. You promised me you’d never hurt them. You promised.”

The words that desperately fell from his lips surprised even himself. He had come with the intention of getting Fumus to stop this madness; his crazed anger had even compelled him to hurt – maybe even kill – his brother. Yet being here once more in his presence, seeing that he was not even fazed by Satanick’s clear misery, it was all Satanick could do to not break down. Perhaps if he begged enough, maybe Fumus would show him mercy.

No; not mercy for him. Rather, mercy to never come around those whom he cared for ever again.

Lost in thought, Satanick did not even have time to register that Fumus easily pushed himself free from Satanick’s hands. The sudden force that exploded over Satanick’s left eye, along with the cracking and crunching sound, had the devil lord snap to his senses as pain radiated through his whole head. The punch that Fumus had thrown sent Satanick flying backwards, landing flat onto his back. The landing was not rough thanks to the carpet in the god’s room, but it still took the breath out of the younger one.

The pain split a headache through his brain as his ears began to ring. Before he could even gather his senses, Satanick felt the breath once more leave him as Fumus jumped on top of Satanick’s stomach. The intense pounding in his head only became heightened the more Fumus rained down blow upon blow to the left side of Satanick’s head, particularly focusing on his left eye. Satanick could only gasp as he tried to get air back into his lungs, instinctively raising his hands up in front of his face to try to ward Fumus off. Foolish of him to even think that such a thing would work. All he could do was grunt and cry out as blow after blow began to shove Satanick’s right cheek into the putrid carpeting. Already he could smell the years of smoke, blood, and other various body fluids still soaked into its depths; sure enough, some of those fluids were most likely his, and now more would soon be joining them.

Through clenched teeth, Fumus hissed out, “You think you can speak to me like that, you _dog_?!” With enunciation on the last word, Fumus gave one final swing of his knuckles across Satanick’s face before grasping onto a fistful of Satanick’s black hair, yanking his head up so he was now face to face with him. Already, Fumus could see the blood dripping down Satanick’s face as his left nostril and side of his lip began to bleed. Purple, black, and blue also began to form around his eye as he had it shut tightly against the onslaught of pain. However, his singular good eye was focused on Fumus – just the way it should be. Fumus leaned in closer to breathe out more venomous words. “You dare have the audacity to ask that of me, Satanick? After everything I have done for you?”

Unblinking, Satanick simply stared back at the glowing, hateful eyes of his brother that matched his own. He tried to find the words to once more ask Fumus to leave his family out of this, only for his torso and head to be thrust once more onto the floor with such force. Breathless once more, Satanick found it even more difficult to breathe with Fumus’s hands now wrapped around his throat, choking him. Fumus’s nails dug into Satanick’s flesh as he tightened his grip around his windpipe, his thumbs pressing deeply into the underside of his jaw. Satanick’s hands immediately went up to grip onto Fumus’s wrists, silently pleading once more with his eyes – finally able to crack open his bruised and aching one – for Fumus to listen to him. His mouth opened in a silent gasp as he tried to wheeze in some oxygen. “Ah…ck….” All he managed to choke out was a distorted grunt.

Fumus glared down at Satanick’s frightened eyes, the one clearly swelling and bruising up from the hits. Good. Soon he would have much more purples and reds lining his body. With teeth clenched, Fumus leaned down over Satanick, his hands still tightly wrapped around the man’s throat. “You say you can’t take it. Well, you better. Because I owe you nothing, Satanick. Nothing.” The pure vitrol in his last word hissed out between his teeth. Now face to face with Satanick – his own dark locks hanging over Satanick’s face – he could hear the feeble gasps and grunts, see Satanick’s gasping lips, and how his eyelids began to droop a bit as oxygen was staved off from his lungs and brain. Loosening up his grip just enough so Satanick could raspily draw a tiny bit of air in, Fumus dove his mouth to the right side of Satanick’s lips. He did not care in the least about being gentle. Right now, all he needed to dole out was pain – pure, unadulterated suffering.

Satanick needed to be reminded on just who was in charge.

The devil’s back arched and so did his hips when he first felt the initial bite from Fumus’s teeth. It started off as a gentle yet firm enough bite near his lips that had Satanick instinctively feel the blood pumping through him to begin spreading to a certain part of his body. Ah; this again. Fumus had trained him well enough to his mouth and touch that Satanick could not help but incline his movements to that of what Fumus had taught him.

_“Pain can be pleasurable, Satanick. Don’t you want that kind of fun?“_

More words from long ago that had never quite faded from the recesses of his mind; words that suited so perfectly for right now. The harder Fumus bit down, the more Satanick wanted to cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He could feel his flesh breaking and his blood start flowing as Fumus bit down harder and harder. Thankfully, his hands had loosened around his neck, giving him a momentary reprieve enough for Satanick to groan out his response. 

Fumus pulled up after a final bite into Satanick’s flesh, making sure to mark him. He could taste the coppery tang of Satanick’s blood in his mouth, and he gave a lick to his brother’s face while pulling up. The deep marks that filled with deep red blood pleased Fumus, as did the bit of drool he could see leaking out of the left-hand corner of Satanick’s mouth. “You filthy liar,” Fumus spat down at him. “I never once promised that I wouldn’t hurt your “precious family.” Why would I ever say something as ludicrous like that? Sounds to me like you like playing the blame game, Satanick.” The purple flash in Fumus’s eyes glowed once more as he mocked Satanick from above. “I will not stand for such insubordination, little brother.”

Of course Satanick had suspected he had lied to him. It was only natural. Just once…. Just once he would like to be able to believe his brother when he said things. He should have known, after all. Fumus only liked to toy with him, jerking his emotions all over the place on a whim. Satanick had agreed to come visit Fumus whenever he called for him. As such, he had told the devil that he would never directly come into contact with his family.

What a fool he had been to even believe such a half-hearted “promise” like that. Perhaps he really was a simpleton to think he could trust Fumus after all this time. What a gullible, idiotic fool he was. How many centuries would it take for him to know to never leave his hopes or any expectations in his older brother?

Another tight squeeze around his throat had Satanick gasping again as he refocused on Fumus.

“Are you listening, you piece of shit?!” Fumus growled down at him, his lips now stained with Satanick’s blood. “I asked you what you were going to do to pay me back. Where is my restitution, Satanick?”

Satanick tried to move his lips and tongue, but nothing was still coming out. Fumus only chuckled at this feeble response, knowing full well Satanick could not respond in such a state. The god decided to bestow some benevolence upon him, finally releasing his grip on Satanick’s throat. He leaned back to watch in satisfaction as Satanick coughed and wheezed, his hands going to his throat to begin rubbing at it. Even if he had been rough with him, Fumus knew this would never kill Satanick, much less damage him for long periods of time.

Being the generous god that he was, Fumus gave Satanick a moment to compose himself before managing to croak out, “Anything. I’ll do… anything, Fumus.”

Yes. Yes, he would.

Fumus would make sure of that.

Satanick barely registered when Fumus began stripping him down, but he allowed it all to happen in a matter of mere seconds. Fumus had done this so many times to him that he was surely a professional. It took no effort for Fumus to unbutton and slip Satanick’s black jacket off, along with his tie. Satanick was amazed that he had not taken the tie to choke him with it once more. Fumus then began tearing at Satanick’s belt and pants, soon yanking them down and off of him. Satanick lie still on the floor as Fumus slid down him to fully strip and toss aside Satanick’s pants in a flourish. As soon as they left his ankles, the god was right back on top of him. He did not have to see Satanick’s crotch to know that the man was already hard.

“You really are a sick whore, Satanick. Getting so turned on by just this.” The god flashed another sadistic smile as he raised his right hand up. With only a fraction of his power, he manifested a red collar in his open palm, a long chain draping off of it that he now held in his left fist. “I think you need to be trained like the filthy dog that you are.”

Satanick did not speak as Fumus locked the collar around his already tender neck, but he could not help but find small yelps leaking past his lips as Fumus gave the chain a yank forward, dragging Satanick’s head up off the floor for a brief moment before letting it drop back down with the slack he gave to the leash. Satanick kept his hands down at his sides, digging his nails into the carpet as he watched Fumus once more summon another object to himself – this one a large, serrated knife. This one with the black handle was quite large in comparison to some of the others Satanick had become acquainted with over the years, and the rows of jagged edges were certainly going to hurt. The devil shut his eyes, knowing what was to come was a torrent of slices and stabs; par for the course, per usual. As if on cue, Fumus brought the knife down right into Satanick’s gut. The devil’s eyes flew open as he let out a choked cry. He knew to expect pain, but he had not suspected Fumus would go straight in like that.

Just another foolish assumption.

Satanick felt tears welling up behind his eyes as Fumus continued to insert the knife practically to the hilt. With each push, Satanick could feel those bladed edges tearing through flesh, muscle, and tendons. With how deep he was shoving it, Satanick could swear he felt it pierce his stomach directly underneath his ribcage, pouring the acidity into his already burning bloodstream. Satanick made a gurgling noise in the back of his throat as he tried to hold back the screams that wanted to tear through him, saliva piling up in his mouth behind clenched teeth. Screams wanted to tear through him as Fumus twisted the weapon, slightly pulling it out, only to once more thrust it back into the already torn flesh. Hot blood seeped through Satanick’s white shirt and across Fumus’s hand. The man’s left hand went to the top row of buttons of Satanick’s sullied dress shirt to pop them open, staring directly at the gash he had made. A sinister grin spread even further across Fumus’s face, his eyebrows contorting into that of an aroused expression. The knife began to slide downwards now, enlarging the slice even further. Whatever resistance was met by flesh and organs, Fumus did not care; all the better for him to use his strength towards.

After what felt like an eternity of the searing pain radiating throughout his being, Satanick gasped as the knife was extracted. The stings that now began to spring up over his flesh now warned him that Fumus had finally begun his torrent of radical cuts. Swipe after swipe of the knife arrayed the devils porcelain skin in mixtures of light and dark reds as smaller cuts knocked at him as nothing more than an annoyance, while deeper ones were concentrated on Satanick’s bare thighs and calves. Satanick hissed in deeply through his clenched teeth; it certainly stung, but this was not the worst of it. He had been subjected to plenty of Fumus’s methods over the centuries, so something as incisions were not going to do him in. In all honesty, Satanick still could feel the pain of what he had seen Licorice go through.

Whatever it took…. If Fumus wanted to hurt someone, he would rather it be him than his child.

The collar around his neck tightened as Satanick was yanked forward with Fumus’s grasp on the chain. The god was now standing, and he drug Satanick along with him. Satanick did his best to oblige as he was forcefully pulled forward to the foot of the bed, landing on his hands and knees. Each movement sent shock waves of shattering pain throughout Satanick’s wounded gut, blood gushing from such a hole while the smaller cuts dribbled down his body. The devil’s head hung down as he huffed, his body beginning to bead with sweat and his vision becoming blurry. Perhaps it was simply from blood loss, yet the naturally occurring tears that hovered in his eyes certainly did not help. Fumus had seen Satanick cry many of times – both through physical pain and sheer emotional pain. But he should not cry; tears did nothing anyway.

As the chain was yanked once more, Satanick’s face was brought up, crashing into Fumus’s crotch. Immediately, Satanick could feel how hard the man already was. Ah, yes; he knew that this was going to be part of his payment. Typical Fumus.

Knife still in hand, Fumus tossed it down with a flick of his wrist so it embedded into the carpet. “You’re going to suck it, Satanick,” Fumus breathed out, moving his hips forward to press even harder into Satanick’s face. He honestly did not care if he suffocated the man by holding him in place. “And you best not mess around. That brat of yours is always a viable option, you know.” Fumus chuckled when he heard Satanick's muffled protest against him. How delightful it was to break this man down in so many fun ways! Satanick might have been getting hard from such torture, but so was Fumus. Now, it was time for his dear brother to do what he did best. 

Giving a little leeway to the chain so Satanick could lean back a bit on his ankles, the god watched as Satanick raised his hands up to begin unbuckling and undoing his brother’s dark pants. Fumus gave a cocky grin as his eyebrows curled up once more in a satisfied expression. Good; Satanick knew just the right way to answer to him. As Satanick finally freed Fumus from his black boxer briefs, the god showed no hesitation in immediately slamming his hips forward into Satanick’s face, his hardened cock pressing into Satanick’s face. At first, Satanick was a bit startled by this, but this was not uncommon; Fumus was the type to be rough. The longer he prolonged this, anyhow, the more he did not want to risk displeasing the man.

Opening his mouth, Satanick took Fumus all the way in, wrapping his lips around the soft, hot girth. A quick yank of the chain, and Fumus’s right hand now slipping into Satanick’s thick, black locks, had Satanick’s mouth filled to capacity. Fumus’s tip already pressed against his uvula, and Satanick reflexively wanted to gag. He shut his violet eyes to concentrate and close off his throat for the time being. He knew how to handle his gag reflex, but with how forceful Fumus could be, it was sometimes difficult to manage. Being forced to stay so close to his own brother’s crotch, Satanick was greeted by the familiar tastes and smells of Fumus; the sweat, the musk, the saltiness – all of it filled Satanick’s nostrils and over his tongue. Satanick barely had to do much of anything except keep his jaw wide as Fumus roughly pumped himself into Satanick’s mouth. The longer he stayed in this position on his hands and knees, the more Satanick could feel his oxygen depleting as he could barely gasp air in through his nostrils, his face practically embedded into Fumus’s pelvis. Satanick managed to grunt out muffled groans as Fumus continued to fuck his mouth, Satanick keeping his teeth separated enough away from Fumus’s member. He would have loved to bite down and bring this man seething pain like he had caused him, but he dare not. Not for his sake – not anymore; this was no longer about him. He had to make sure that Fumus enjoyed himself, lest the god decided to find his satisfaction elsewhere. Satanick would rather be damned than let anything happen to Licorice.

Not again. Not again….

Recalling Licorice crying and screaming out in pain as the video played out flashed across Satanick’s mind. Once more he could see the long black strands of Licorice’s hair stuck to his face as tears seeped through the blindfold, his son’s mouth open wide as he cried out when Fumus had stabbed him. Satanick could once more feel the anger creeping into his veins, but now, tears also began to well up behind his closed eyes. He felt sickened all over again as those horrible images stuck in his mind. He had no idea what the video would be about when he had found it placed on his bed. Part of him wished he had never watched it, but in a strange way, he was glad that he did. After all, to imagine that he could have ignored this clear message only made him fear the “what-ifs.” What if he had not followed through on this? What if he had ignored Fumus’s special “present?” Would he have taken Licorice once more? Would he have done even worse….?

Horrible!

How could he have let this happen? Licorice was his responsibility; his son – his flesh and blood. Granted, he was not always around the boy, nor did the boy really see to care enough for Satanick to be around him, but this was still his child. As a father, he was supposed to protect him… and he had failed at that simple task.

_If only you had come to see me._

Fumus need not speak those words; Satanick already knew them by heart. Once again, it was his fault.

It was fault that Licorice had wound up in this horrible situation.

His fault that his son had to suffer, even if he never remembered that day.

His fault….

All his fault….

Satanick no longer felt the pain of Fumus thrusting into his mouth or the way his black fingernails dug into his scalp. All Satanick could feel was a mind-numbing coldness over his mind as his heart ached. At some point he must have opened his eyes to let the large tears that had piled up behind his eyelids come leaking down his cheeks. He didn’t mind that they fell off his chin and onto his bloodied body; what was one more fluid to the already terrible mixture and smell on him? He only hoped that the wetness would not disturb Fumus as they dripped onto his pelvis, as well. If anything, Fumus did not seem to care in the slightest. In fact, Satanick found his face being lifted to meet Fumus’s gaze as the man pulled down on the back of his hair to raise his wet face.

What a sight to behold. It filled Fumus with such ecstasy to see Satanick’s weeping eyes as his mouth was still occupied with his dick. Such a pretty, pathetic sight. Fumus first began to feel a shiver down his back as his loins tightened. The familiar feeling of release was approaching, so Fumus kept his eyes locked down onto Satanick’s. “Look at me,” he rasped out, his voice deep yet breathy as he continued to pound into his brother’s moist mouth. “Keep looking at me, Satanick.”

What a thrill it gave him to see Satanick obey him; to hear him grunting and moaning. Cry as he might, Fumus knew Satanick enjoyed this just as much as he did. He had trained him well in the realms of sex and all the ways it could be enjoyed. Now, even his own depraved body could not lie to him. Fumus did not even have to see it to know that Satanick was just as rock-hard as he was. “What a good whore you are, Satanick,” Fumus breathed out. With a final, rough push, Fumus shoved himself fully down into Satanick’s throat. He could hear the man’s muffled gag as he choked on him, but that only further spurred Fumus on. Pressing Satanick’s head into him, and a little readjustment to the chain and collar around his neck, Fumus kept a conniving expression painted across his features as he orgasmed. If it had not been for his breathing or the way his cock twitched as he expounded his cum, one would never have been able to tell that Fumus was experiencing orgasmic pleasure with the way he stared down at Satanick’s face. Such a pitiful, sniveling face that had no choice but to swallow and lap up every bit of warm seed that spilled into his mouth. Fumus stood as still as he could despite his somewhat shaken legs. He had not realized how long he had been holding himself back. Yet seeing something in Satanick’s broken look was restoring his vigor.

A few moments ticked by as every last bit of cum was taken from Fumus, the ragged breathing of both men being the only sounds to accompany the slight tinkling of the chain. Feeling a bit more relaxed now, Fumus loosened his grip on Satanick’s hair and the chain still clamped in his left hand. He slowly pulled himself out, letting Satanick taste all of him for as long as possible. Just when exactly had been the last time that he had made Satanick perform oral sex on him? Well, not that that mattered anymore; today would certainly suffice for this. Fumus let his fingers trail over the top of Satanick’s hair and between his horns before fixing himself back up, stuffing his satisfied-self back into his pants. He looked at Satanick’s blank expression as the tears began to dry on his face. A bit of semen dribbled out of the right corner of his mouth, the other side still showing signs of dried blood from earlier.

Ah, that was right – the knife wound. Fumus looked down at where the knife had penetrated, seeing that some of the blood was now clotting up as the wound closed. Now that wouldn’t do, now would it? With a quick yank of the chain, Fumus commanded Satanick to rise. Obediently, Satanick did, albeit it a bit shakier than earlier. Taller he might be, but with the collar around his neck, Fumus knew just who the true master was in this relationship.

Placing his right hand on Satanick’s left shoulder, Fumus pushed him backwards onto the pristine white sheets of his bed. Satanick stumbled a bit as the back of his knees hit the bed, but he soon found himself positioned in just the way Fumus wanted him, lying back against a few of the pillows against the wall. The devil naturally groaned out as the slicing pain of the cuts on his legs and the wound in his gut reopened with the movement, but he pressed his lips tightly together to stifle himself.

 _Why even bother?_ a voice inside of his own head spoke to himself. That oh, so familiar voice Satanick knew very well as his own self-deprecation. _Who cares if he hears you cry out? Maybe it’s better this way. It will keep him happy. Don’t you want your brother happy?_

Those words…. If Satanick had not been used to that sentence, he would have laughed it off with how ironic that statement was. Nonetheless, it was a phrase he knew all too well, as those same words had been echoed to him over the centuries by both Fumus and his mind alike.

Of course Satanick wanted his brother happy, but…. This happiness always came with a heavy price. And he knew… he would willingly pay it whenever he was asked. To not do so would be detrimental to even more than Satanick cared to ever lose.

Straddling him once more, Satanick now groaned as Fumus’s pants rubbed against his member. He had almost forgotten how hard he was himself, and this reminder did not help him. Fumus must have noticed such a thing, as he purposefully ground his body over Satanick’s, that smirk still across his toothy grin. “What’s wrong, Satanick? You want a release, too, don’t you?” Fumus only ground against him further, causing Satanick to moan out loud as he twisted his neck to the left, hoping to still the tightening in his loins.

He hated begging Fumus for this, especially after everything that happened. It was true, he loved Fumus; he was his older brother, after all. Yet such poisonous feelings about what he had done to Licorice still haunted Satanick’s darkening mind. However, he knew - how he knew - that begging was one way to help Fumus be gracious to him.

“P... Please… Fumus,” Satanick groaned out, squinting his eyes shut. “Please.”

“Hmm?” Fumus mocked, tilting his head to the side to follow Satanick’s. Even with Satanick’s black bangs in the way, Fumus could see the contorted look of pain and pleasure etched across his features. “What do you want me to do, Satanick?” Fumus leaned in close, his face hovering in front of his little brother’s. “You want me to fuck you, is that it?”

Satanick gritted his teeth together as he heard Fumus say those filthy words – words that he himself had said many, many of times to his lovers and sexual partners. A simple phrase that was so easy to utter at any other time. In the past, he would have easily said them to Fumus when needing some “rough play.” Today…. Today he just did not have the heart to do so, despite his body yelling at him for sweet release. “Please, Fumus.” Gosh; how he hated how pathetic his voice sounded right now. 

The bit of squeak to Satanick’s voice soon turned into one of agony as he jolted back into a somewhat sitting position as Fumus’s fingers dove into the gaping wound in Satanick’s chest. Satanick’s eyes met his, and both pairs of violet eyes gazed back at each other – one pair glowing with malice, the one darker and more faded. Fumus’s digits slipped inside the aching, burning wound. It was as if the god was rummaging for something, though Satanick did not know what. How part of him wished those fingers were wrapped around his cock instead. Still, the more that Fumus’s prying fingers dug and gouged at his shredded flesh, Satanick instinctively raised his hands up to grasp onto Fumus’s wrist, pleading once more. “Fumus, please.”

“You won’t even say it,” Fumus whispered out in response. “You beg and cry like a bitch, but you won’t even say it.” Fumus quickly yanked out his fingers, snatching himself back out of Satanick’s grip. For a moment, Fumus dropped the chain that was in his left hand. With his now free hand, Fumus scooped up Satanick’s wrists, dragging them up above his head so his hands overlapped, one on top of the other, placed against the wall. Fumus raised his right one up, but Satanick’s gaze did not follow. His head felt too heavy to lift up anymore. Though, the stabbing sensation and piercing through bones and tendons through the palms of his hand had Satanick tossing his head back, his purple horns hitting the wall. Another scream was able to pass his shredded throat, noticing that same knife that had pierced his torso was now pinning him to the wall. Even if he was to move his hands forward to yank them off the wall, the serrated edges only further shred into Satanick’s hands. More blood began to trickle out of the corner of Satanick’s mouth as he coughed from the radiating agony that flooded every cell of his body. He lowered his head once more, his lips slightly parted as he could only moan out a feeble, incoherent noise.

So much blood, so much hate, so many tears.

Would this never end?

Fumus’s mouth now on his had Satanick once more sobbing.

This kiss was not as brutal as the one where Fumus had left teeth marks on him. Instead, it was almost softer yet more passionate. Fumus did not close his eyes for the kiss; instead, he kept those same eyes locked with Satanick’s. All Satanick could do in that moment was stare back, small tears still stuck to his eyelashes. Just what was he really looking at? Yes, his brother’s eyes with those dark circles underneath them, but what else lurked in those depths? They may have been immortal beings, but Satanick knew that no matter how many centuries passed, he would never be able to figure Fumus out.

Pulling back from Satanick, Fumus reached the chain up to wrap around the scissors penetrating the wall. He gave a softer smile towards Satanick, now placing his bloodied right hand on Satanick’s left cheek. The next words he spoke pierced Satanick more than any others.

“I love you, Satanick.”

Honestly, he would have preferred for Fumus to strike him or cut him again than bear this type of wound inflicted upon his heart and mind. Why…. Why must Fumus torture him with these reminders all over again?

Fumus watched as Satanick hung his head, his tears dripping onto his chest and into his wounds. The god let out a light, “Tch,” between his teeth as he slid off of Satanick, hearing Satanick’s light moan once more as he brushed across Satanick’s erection. Still turned on even when tears were rolling down his face; just the way Fumus liked it.

After sliding off the bed, Fumus turned back to look at his sniveling, bruised, and bloodied brother. In many ways, Fumus was feeling quite satisfied. It seemed that a level of peace had been restored to this minor upset of not having Satanick around. That was surely going to change once more, and all towards the god’s favor. With a pleased grin on his lips, Fumus plucked a cigarette from his back pocket to place it between his lips, the flick of a silver lighter soon following suit. As he breathed in the tangy odor and feeling into his lungs, Fumus pulled it out between his blood-stained index and middle finger. He breathed out a puff of smoke towards Satanick, who seemed unfazed by such a thing.

“You don’t look so good, Satanick,” he mocked. “Perhaps you best stay here for a while. I wouldn’t want you leaving after so long away from each other.” No response from the younger one should have agitated Fumus, but right now, all he could feel was a sense of satisfaction, knowing that his job was done for the time being.

Cigarette back in mouth, Fumus decided to leave him be for now. After all, psychological torture did best when alone. Walking over the bloodied mess – his shoes leaving more imprints along the carpeting – Fumus made it to his bedroom door. A quick snap of his fingers, and whatever dim lighting illuminated the room now faded to black. In the pitch darkness, Fumus easily found the doorknob, twisting it open so a sliver of outside light meekly shone in. Looking over his shoulder, Fumus looked at the darkened shape of his half-naked brother on a mountain of red-stained pillows. “And don’t even think about healing or satisfying yourself. Be a good boy, and I just might offer you a hand later.”

The god slammed the door shut, leaving a trail of smoke lingering in the air to mingle beautifully with the smell of blood, sweat, and tears as a devil lord violently sobbed with a voice that barely registered to any listener. 


End file.
